Vickie's sister-in-law left a message on her machine. Her brother David was dead. The cancer won.
The next week was blurred with the drive to Colorado, then the wake and funeral and the snaking line of relations long lost, friends barely seen, strangers. The worst was her sullen nephew and sobbing nieces. When she returned to her bundled cabin after the silent drive across the barren highway she was grateful for her solitude. She had promised her nephew Randy that he could visit in a few weeks. He was only twelve, too young to be fatherless.
She barely had time to drop her suitcase on the table when a voice called from the porch. She opened the door. The afternoon sun was still heavy in the sky, a trace of burning wood lingered in the air. Before her stood Yani, her face hidden in shadow. She wore a gray dress that looked like a tunic.